


Axton

by Ekala



Category: Tron (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Boot Worship, Circuit Sex, Collars, Corruption, Deepthroating, Dominance, Dubious Consent, Fights, M/M, Master/Slave, Reprogramming, Rimming, Roughness, Submission, Training, Twincest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ekala/pseuds/Ekala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Together we'll be whole."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the taste of defeat

**Author's Note:**

> for a prompt on the [](http://tronkinkmeme.livejournal.com/profile)[**tronkinkmeme**](http://tronkinkmeme.livejournal.com/).

  
It had all happened so fast, Alan wasn't sure quite what exactly had transpired. Flynn had told him that if he ever went missing he should open this sealed envelope and follow the instructions. The game, the secret room, the laser - the _digital world_ , he thought, incredibly structured and organized and simply _beautiful_.

And, like any other unknown, extremely dangerous.

He'd been caught almost immediately after he came out of the arcade, carried off in this machinery marvel - a Recognizer, he knew, but how did that thing _fly_ \- and taken away to what looked like an arena. One of the guard programs began scanning the others, saying something but as it came to him it stopped, scanning him two or three times without what seemed like any success.

The minutes stretched on, the program continually scanning him without saying a word, the other programs in the line of what appeared to be prisoners as confused as he was, though a couple seemed rather grateful for the interruption. Eventually a lightcycle - now _that_ was a lightcycle, most certainly, and damn that was amazing - rolled up, with what was apparently a superior. He did something to the program in front of Alan and he stepped away, leaving only the fairly intimidating helmeted program there.

He does the same motion: the small helmet tilt, the flicker of pure programming. However, unlike the other, he does it only twice before releasing the foot restraints and pulling Alan along, rumbling vibrating down his arm. Sounded like a broken harddrive, he realized, and that was all he could think before he was shoved over the back of the bike and they were speeding off somewhere.

It was _exhilarating_ , the rush of nearly-static air, the perfect bike purring between his legs, the glow that everything including his supposed captor gave off. If this was where Flynn had been disappearing to - and of course it was. The digital frontier. He laughed. Of course he'd be excited over this.

But that didn't last long.

Now he's on the floor, a boot heavy on his back, able to tilt his head up just enough to look at what was most definitely an evil Kevin doppelganger (even if he lacked the goatee). It was fairly simple to assume that this was where he'd gone to - somehow this madman had him trapped in the system, or something. Alan was suddenly glad that he'd left the letter out on his table - certainly someone would find it. As long as that didn't disappear, eventually someone would figure this out.

He didn't want to think of what would happen if they turned off the computer. Avoiding that, he grit his teeth, still putting up as much of a fight as he was able. Granted, it wasn't much - he wasn't sure if the programs had super-human strength or simply a lot more than him, but he couldn't even push up enough to get his chest off the ground. Still, he's tense and obviously unwilling even as the clone kneels in front of him, tracing over the lines of his face.

"You're just as beautiful... and so much less compliant. Let's see if we can change that, shall we?" Alan growled, silenced only by a warning grind against his spine, as the program walked over to some unseen compartment and brought back what could only be a collar, complete with what he definitely did not just call a lightrope in his head. And yes, he did snap it around his neck, and he definitely did not like the feeling and he could not be wondering if Kevin had at least vaguely similar fantasies. Evil he may be, but this thing was definitely still a clone. He wasn't sure he liked the way that sent a flush through his body.

"Rinzler." That must have been the other program's name, as the boot on his back lifted, replaced by hands like iron shackles around his arms, dragging him over to where evil-doppelganger was now sitting on what was halfway a couch and halfway a throne, bowing respectfully as he handed over the light--- the _leash_ , damnit, it's not like it made any difference. The program smirked, tugging lightly on it, chuckling as Alan pulled back and nearly strangled himself in the process. Anything was better than just giving up.

"Nearly as resiliant as him, too. Well, we all must start somewhere. And today... I believe my boots need a good cleaning." Alan couldn't believe his ears. Collared and leashed and now he--- he knew where this was going. He'd heard tales of places in the "real" world, as it were. Places where people were treated like pets, like slaves, whipped and beaten and... He really didn't want to consider the possiblity, even if it made everything they'd done make far more sense in addition to making his suit just a tad tighter than it'd been before.

"I'm not going to do anything like that, you... degenerate _freak_!" He pulled back again, ready for the choke this time, spitting as best he could towards the clone. The doppleganger just laughed, holding the leash firm until Alan has to relent and lean forward again, gasping lightly against the program's boots.

"Rinzler." Alan barely had time to widen his eyes before there's a boot between his shoulders again, grinding against his spine, an iron grip twisting one of his arms up and behind him in a painful hold. He's close enough to smell his captor's boot now, the gold of his circuits dizzying from this distance, and it would have been a beautiful color originally, he thinks. Vaguely he wondered if Kevin chose it, but decides that regardless of who chose it it would have been Kevin's choice, even if he can't reconcile this monstrosity with his best friend.

It doesn't even occur to him that he shouldn't. That maybe they're different people altogether. He knows Kevin well enough that if he was going to put something into a system like this that looked this much like him, he'd make it act like him, but that certainly wasn't explaining why Alan was half an inch from a dictator's boot with a guard threatening to break his arm if he didn't clean it until it shone with nothing more than his tongue.

Maybe it was the collar, or the pain, or just the fact that he's completely overwhelmed by everything, but it suddenly didn't seem like such a bad thing. He groaned lightly in frustration before finally flicking his tongue out and swiping it over the broad surface, gasping lightly as Rinzler let his arm go immediately. The pressure on his back lifted but stayed, a threat to continue. Kevin's clone just watched him and he screwed his eyes shut, trying not to think too much about what he looks like, sprawled on all fours and licking at his master's boot.

To take his mind off the image, along with the persistent pressure of Rinzler's boot and that damned collar, he focused on the job. The boot doesn't actually taste dirty - he's fairly sure there's not any dirt here, in the digital world, but it doesn't make this any less degrading. For a few good moments he thought of what it must be made of; some sort of plastic, he supposes, smooth under his tongue, interrupted only by those increasingly intriguing light-lines. Circuits, he thought, as he passes over one and the taste of electricity fills his mouth, sharp and bitter like he'd licked a battery.

The room is silent as he continued, the low hum coming from Rinzler just faded into background noise. It unnerved him, disquieted in a way not even learning of evil clones can accomplish. He could still hear himself; the steady yet fearful thudding of his heart, blood rushing through his ears, and just the tiniest wet noises as he moved and licked. His tongue lapped a broad stripe up one of those apparent circuits and the silence was suddenly, completely broken by a low moan. Alan looked up, alarmed, and upon catching the blissed look on not-Kevin's face it all came together.

The circuits must have been directly connected to whatever they designated as nerves. Like giant, glowing weak spots on the outside of their clothing. It only halfway made sense but it had to be it, because he was fairly sure just simple bootlicking wouldn't-- He caught himself staring at the man's crotch, his arousal completely evident, and it sent another wave of flushed heat through him that he passed off as embarrassment. His eyes flicked back up to the program's face and he's met with a lustful look that turns into smug heat as he feels his face turn red. Alan felt as if he were falling already, losing himself to this dark fantasy that he couldn't even admit he wanted. It couldn't be real but it was and the desire to get away was dwindling quickly.

Then his focus shifted and Alan tried to look with him, disoriented. "Rinzler. Kiss me." The pressure suddenly lifted from Alan's back and he sat up just a bit, shifting and cracking his shoulders, eyes glancing between the two programs. Rinzler crawled into the other's lap, helmet retracting as he leaned forward and Alan sat there awkwardly, watching the back of his head and hearing nothing but the wet slide of their lips together for a long moment. They moved and he heard the other chuckle before uttering another command. "Show him your face, pet." The warrior program turned obediently, and--

His breath caught in his throat, blood turning to ice inside him. The program had another familiar face - his _own_. No wonder Kevin's clone had seemed so smug. God, no, he couldn't even - he felt himself trying to form words and failing, scrambling over and pressing his back to the side of the chair, trying to meld himself into it as if that would calm him. The leash is tight but not choking, though it didn't help the frantic breaths he was gasping in, lungs burning with the effort. He hadn't suffered a panic attack before but this sure as hell felt like one, mind spinning and unable to focus on one thing, body trembling with something he couldn't even name.

He's suddenly being held by strong arms, just able to tell from the red circuits that this must be his twin - his very own _evil doppleganger_ \- and he's shaking and probably crying, clinging to this warm, solid mass, not quite able to listen to the comforting words he was murmuring in his ear. He calmed, slowly, the hand petting through his hair and the hot lips whispering to him between light kisses along his neck and it felt so good, as everything came back into sharp, sharp focus.

"...he won't ever betray you or hurt you, he will comfort you in every way, he'll love you and train you and make you _perfect_ and together we can be everything, to the system, to him, if you'll only just..."

Alan barely registered his own motions as he pulled Rinzler into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as a surge of power passed through him. Everything felt so much different here even as it was the same, hot pleasure mixed with crackling electricity and simple touches enhanced to waves of heated bliss. They broke apart quickly, the user's chest still heaving for breath, unsure what he was doing or what he should be doing or even why-- but his twin, with those all-too-enchanting red eyes, smiled softly and laid a line of light kisses along his bottom lip, whispering praises.

"Together we'll be whole."

The tug on the collar was not as unexpected as he thought, and he automatically moved towards it now, eyes shifting back to his master. The program was stroking himself now, black and gold contrasting with the pale sheen of his body and Alan felt his own suit move uncomfortably tight against him again, making him shudder. He suddenly, clearly understood the unspoken command and stooped low and ran his tongue along the long, glowing circuit again, feeling more than seeing it brighten and waver under his touch. It was just all too much and he couldn't do anything but follow these orders, do what he was told, or else he might overload himself.

Rinzler watched him for a long moment - he could feel both pairs of eyes as they shifted away from him to each other, the warrior slinking back to his master, settling beside Alan. The drawn-out moan made him look up, shivering at the sight of himself, Rinzler, it barely mattered - of them sucking the program's dick, cheeks hollow and already letting him move deep. He groaned himself, again, returning to his own job, trying not to be outdone. The master couldn't last long under such an assault and Alan shook as Rinzler touched a leg to his side, almost as if a circuit was completed, energy running through all three of them.

The gold-circuited program moaned again, long and hard and Alan could feel the rush of energy through him as surely as he could taste it from the circuit his mouth was pressed against and he _knew_. He glanced up just in time to see the master bury hands in Rinzler's hair and arch up into his mouth, releasing himself, circuits bursting with light and pleasure. Rinzler took it gracefully, obviously in practice, drawing back slowly and keeping his mouth shut as he looked to Alan again, eyes darker than Alan could ever remember his own being. He could lose himself in those.

Perhaps he did, as the next thing he could recall was Rinzler pressing him against the chair, right there between their programmer's legs, kissing him deeply and sharing that intoxicating taste with him. He knew semen was supposed to taste bitter, or disgusting, or _something_ , but he couldn't get enough of the taste and grasped at the program's arms, trying to pull him closer as they chased every bit of the master's energy down the other's throat. They pulled apart momentarily, Alan's chest heaving again, face flushed - no, his entire body felt flushed, waiting for another touch or another pull or anything from either of the programs.

At some unknown signal - probably from the other clone, as he can still feel his eyes on the back of his neck and the residual warmth of his circuits surrounding them both - Rinzler pushed forward again, this time with his whole body, rolling against Alan in what he could only describe as the most pleasurable lapdance imaginable. It was if the warm tingly feelings he got when he finished a particularly hard program rushed to every single atom in his body, combined with the intense pleasure of what felt like orgasm but couldn't be because he still wanted _more_ , Rinzler rolling down again and again and he was sure he was screaming or dying or perhaps just moaning pathetically. His own circuits burst outward in a wave of white light, drowning his senses in electric bliss for a long minute of eternity.

The gentle hand petting through his hair grounded him first, giving him a single point of contact to focus on, to let himself realign and reorient. His double's purr was persistent in his ear and he opened his eyes to find the program still sprawled over him, glowing what he supposed was a happy maroon. There was a tiny tug at his collar and he rolled his head back, looking at the programmer, a shudder running through him at the lazy, smug contentment written all over not-Kevin's face.

"You did very well. We'll train you and you'll stay with us. You'll like that, won't you?" Alan felt himself nod tiredly, and he supposed he really didn't mind much. If pleasure like that was involved... even if it was with a clone of himself and his best friend... well, he supposed he was rather handsome, and he'd always harbored a sort of secret crush on Kevin. It certainly wasn't the worst situation. He could be dead or injured and instead he was floating on the cloud of the afterglow of what he could easily classify as the best orgasm of his entire life.

Besides, eventually _someone_ would find that letter, and they'd rescue Kevin and he both, and maybe he could convince Rinzler and his programmer that the outside world wasn't that terrible and they could come with him. He was sure Kevin wouldn't mind the idea of a little foursome. In the meantime he'd just follow orders and do as he was told - something Alan had always been good at.

Of course, what he didn't know was that Lora had found the letter as well, and seeing the Encom header and assuming it was some piece of work he'd need, had tucked it in the pocket of his jacket to make sure he wouldn't leave it. Alan was always forgetting papers at home and she did her best to correct that when she could.

He just always left the important things behind. Turning more into Kevin every day, she thought.  



	2. the taste of defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I am to teach you."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sequel to [the taste of defeat](http://ekala-sy-eph.livejournal.com/58844.html#cutid1) and the second part of an ever-expanding reprogrammed!Alan!verse that refuses to leave my head. and for after you read: yes, I gave Alan classic!Tron circuits on a Legacy suit.

  
They kept him in this nice, luxurious room. He wasn't allowed to leave, of course, but the bed was soft and he couldn't remember a time when he wanted anything more than to eat and sleep and play with the intriguing bits of code Rinzler would give him when he visited. He had also gotten one of those awesome gridsuits they'd all been wearing. It was almost like spandex or leather except it was comfortable and it breathed and moved and Alan almost wished he were more athletic so he could exploit it. He spent hours examining it, wondering what the material really was and if it translated out into the real world; they could make millions selling motorcycle suits or wetsuits or pretty much anything made out of that material. And the circuits were breathtaking. He seemed to have about ten times as many as anyone else he'd seen - broad swathes across his back, crazy patterns down his arms and legs, all looking more or less exactly like any stock picture of computer circuitry. They were also currently a bright white - god knew why, as everything else he had seen recently has those orange-red ones, besides Clu himself.

Even just the thought of the Programmer sent a pulse of light across his circuits and Alan bit his lip, shuddering. He felt like he was 16 again - almost constantly horny. It didn't even occur to him that it might be the fault of the collar still encircling his neck. Thankfully it wasn't totally distracting, though, and he mostly just avoided thinking about it much. For a couple of days he was left alone almost completely. It felt more like vacation than anything else; a fuzzy inbetween of relaxation, thoughts swimming with wonder.

Rinzler finally came for him. Alan knew it was different from the moment the program walked in for one simple reason: he was holding the lightrope. He wasted no time in acquiesing, tilting his head back and shivering lightly as the program's fingers brushed under his chin affectionately before securing the leash. Alan followed him as he led him out, staying close enough so that the rope stayed slack, wide eyes absorbing what he could of around him. They still seemed to be in the ship he'd originally been on - so they hadn't moved him out of the place after he'd blacked out. That was... reassuring, somehow.

However, instead of heading towards what seemed to be the main room, Rinzler dragged him off into a side room. It actually seemed modestly decorated compared to everything else Alan had seen; red-orange lines danced in intricate patterns on the wall, black furniture scattered about, one wall half-transparent. The warrior's bedroom, he would assume. His private study. It was rather beautiful but he had no idea why he would--

Rinzler crowded him back against the door, helmet disappearing as he pressed in closer for a kiss. Well, that had been one option, he supposed. Those red eyes were no less enchanting now than they had been before and he couldn't help but stare as his twin pulled away, licking his lips and looking most definitely like the cat who had gotten both the cream and the canary.

"I am to teach you." Alan nodded distantly, the taste of what he'd learned to call simply energy lingering in his mouth. Rinzler tugged gently on his leash, his attention suddenly focusing directly back on his twin's face. "Your name is Axton." Alan opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by another tug and a stare he knew meant disapproval. "Your name," he repeated slowly, "is Axton. You serve the Programmer and Master, Clu. You take orders only from him. You will do anything for him."

It didn't feel much like teaching, but Alan found himself listening intently nonetheless. He had been wondering what their purpose in keeping him was; apparently they wished to turn him into a drone like every other program around here. It wasn't going to work, of course; he was human, not a program, and simply trying to rewrite his 'code' wouldn't work. "You are also my partner. My other half. We fight together." Rinzler leaned forward, nearly touching their lips together, disturbing Alan's calm and causing him to nearly short-circuit as gentle fingers ran along the edge of his disc. "Together we are whole and we will accomplish anything our Programmer tells us to do."

By this time Alan's concentration had been fully disrupted, completely focused on the entirely pleasurable feeling that was gloved fingers running along the edge of his disc, slipping up before running down over the face of the disc and pressing lightly on the center ring. He moaned loudly, shaking, hands suddenly flying up to clutch at his twin's shoulders. The smirk it drew out of Rinzler was felt more than seen and they were pressing together again, blissfully amazing, circuits rubbing against circuits. Alan swore as the program drew back, breaking all contact, whispering to him again.

"Today I am to teach you how to please our Programmer. You have learned how to manipulate his circuits already." The user was only half-listening, nodding distractedly. Anything to get that feeling back again. "I must teach you how to accept him into you." The words had just registered as Rinzler's hands slammed down on his shoulders, forcing Alan neatly onto his knees, grunting as the shock reverberated through his body. One gentle hand was back again, tilting his head up and tapping under his chin until he looked up, eyes locking with his double's again, blue meeting red.

Rinzler's thumb pressed against his lips and he sucked it in without hesitation, tongue lapping at the dark material. He realized belatedly what he was doing, what Rinzler was going to teach him to do, and he looked down, face flushing to a bright red. What _was_ he doing here and why wasn't he struggling-- a tug on the leash interrupted his thoughts just as Rinzler's thumb retreated. He started to look back up but the process was thoroughly interrupted by one of the program's hands sliding in front of his face - no, over the front of his uniform, letting it fall away and --

Alan wondered vaguely if he looked this good from this position. He doubted it. God, he couldn't help the thought that stuck in his mind; that he was going to have it in his mouth and it would taste just as good as the traces that he'd managed to catch of their Programmer before. It made him salivate and he would bet that Rinzler looked rather smug as one hand tangled in his hair, guiding him forward and pressing his lips just against the tip of his cock. He could taste the heat from here and it was so tempting but his lips were sealed shut with fear and rebellion and something he just can't quite place. The other's free hand brushed gently over his eyes, urging him to close them, words floating to him although he honestly wasn't sure if they had been spoken or just in his head.

"Stop resisting." His jaw went slack and Rinzler pushed inside, hot and thick and heavy and Alan completely forgot why he was resisting in the first place. It felt so _right_ and he moaned, sucking once without meaning to and far too thoroughly enjoying the tiny thrust of his double's hips that it caused. Rinzler guided him up and down, carefully setting the rhythm and pace, gentle and slow, murmuring instructions that Alan could only follow. A twist of the tongue here, a suck as he did this, don't forget to-- right _there_.

It was all fine until the thrusts got deeper. Alan tried to relax, but he couldn't help his gag reflex and pushed desperately against Rinzler's legs, gasping and coughing as the other let him pull off. Fuck, that had hurt, but he knew he had to learn, somehow. Rinzler let him breathe for a moment before making him tilt his head up and look at him. He ran a soothing hand down the length of Alan's throat, smiling a bit, before speaking. "Flatten your tongue. Keep breathing. Think about how good it would feel to have him all the way..." Alan swallowed, breath going shallow suddenly. Yeah, that was something he definitely wanted. Rinzler had looked so good doing it before, if he could just...

The program was pulling him back again, pushing into him and sliding smoothly to the back of his mouth, and Alan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to relax again, following the tips as best he could. Rinzler moaned and he _swallowed_ and suddenly his nose was pressed to his double's stomach, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. That moan turned into a strained, long, pleasured noise and he felt it pulse inside him, pouring down his throat, and he just swallowed and breathed and swallowed and breathed.

Then they were separated again, Alan falling to all fours and gasping and letting the rest of whatever was in his mouth drip down his chin and onto the floor, unable to stop it. They stayed like that for some indeterminate amount of time before Rinzler knelt in front of him, lifting his chin and wiping the mess from his face, smiling softly. Something in his eyes told Alan that he'd done more than well and he smiled back, blinking the remaining tears out of his blurry eyes.

"Very good, Axton." Was that his name? It sounded a bit off, but-- Rinzler was helping him up, leading him over to the bed. "You must also learn the other side but..." He collapsed on the soft surface, feeling more exhausted than he realized. Rinzler appeared in his view, that soft smile still spread over his face. "We will reconvene later. Rest, now, Axton. Dream of the Programmer."

The last thing he saw were his own eyes, mirrored back to him in red.

His circuits flickered purple, disc glowing crimson for a nano before flipping back to white.  



	3. the color of his heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"We must train."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sequel to [the taste of defeat](http://ekala-sy-eph.livejournal.com/58844.html#cutid1) and [the sound of a name](http://ekala-sy-eph.livejournal.com/59018.html#cutid1). what am I even doing anymore.

  
  
"Axton." He stirred, eyes bleary as he blinked them open. "Drink." A hand appeared with a glass of something, and he couldn't find it in himself to refuse it. It felt cool and soothing going down, a delicious, sweet blend, and he sighed contently. The world came into focus slowly, centered around the program sitting to the side of... not _his_ bed, he remembered. Rinzler. The program hovering over him looked just this side of worried until the expression was swept away by his normal neutral one. "Come. We must train."

He struggled upwards, body resisting for a moment before the controls clicked back into place, rolling his shoulders once to stretch before scooting out of the bed. Rinzler looked rather amused and he wondered why - he was still new to this, after all, he couldn't be perfect like his partner. Partner? The confusion must have crossed his face as the other program was suddenly right beside him, eyes locked with his own. "Axton." He waved Rinzler off, stretching again before nodding. Training, right.

They wandered down halls and through elevators and he wondered the whole time how big the complex was. It occurred to him that he didn't even know where they were. How had he gotten here? But then Rinzler was tugging on his arm again and they were entering a rather nice private training room. The program guided him to the center and began interrogating him. No, he didn't know how to fly a lightjet. Or ride a lightcycle. Or pilot a recognizer. Or use a lightsword. Or a baton. No, not even a stave. Rinzler looked a little put out. He rolled his eyes - it certainly wasn't his fault he didn't know anything. It wasn't like you could be born with the knowledge. Could you?

"From the beginning, then." He fell into a stance, of some sort, helmet sliding into place. "Copy me." Axton immediately did so, slightly surprised that he was able to follow so perfectly. Rinzler smiled. "Good." He drew his discs, splitting them easily and holding them in the same position. Axton copied, for some reason surprised when his disc split as well. Wasn't he just-- Rinzler moved, thrusting one disc out and then up in an uppercut move, following it with a sweep of his leg and ending in a dramatic pose. He felt himself moving, almost unconciously doing the same.

They continued in a similar fashion for a while, the moves becoming increasingly complex, Rinzler occasionally pausing to reach over and nudge him into a more correct position. It seemed to be going fine until Rinzler propelled himself up in a flip and Axton attempted it but fumbled and nearly decapitated himself with one of his own discs, helmet cracking and derezzing completely with the stress. Rinzler stopped immediately, rushing over, helmet retracting to run system scans as quickly as he could process while Axton just rolled over and arched, groaning, to crack his back. He chuckled, sitting up slowly. "Seems like I'm just not as..." He trails off, thoughts conflicting. They were supposed to be identical, so how could he be any less - Rinzler growled and he looked up, blinking.

"Technique. Here." Rinzler guided him back to his feet, pushing and pulling him into the exact correct stance he needed to be in. He talked, murmured direction in his ear, hands running over the circuits he was speaking of. Eventually he stood back and Axton tried again, this time executing it smoothly, smiling over at his partner as he looked up. Rinzler beamed back at him, moving forward and gently guiding him into the next position. He couldn't help but notice the touch this time, of course, sliding over every circuit he had and reminding him of exactly what they'd been doing yesterday. Axton tried to focus, he did, but barely got through two more jumps before his circuits were flushing a deep violet and he was tired of keeping up the pretense of paying attention.

"Rinzler." His double ceased talking, though his hands were still tracing distracting patterns over his circuits. He shuddered, once, trying to gather the words but unable to. Rinzler kissed his neck softly and Axton could feel the smile gracing those lips. "Time to switch to our other training?" He nodded, almost just turned and pinned him to the ground but his double was already guiding his discs back to their dock and his body out the door, purring deceptively in his ear.

They somehow made it back to Rinzler's room before he pinned the program to the wall, kissing him thoroughly. Rinzler twirled a hand through his hair, tightening it suddenly and pulling his head back, biting along his exposed throat. "Patience," he hissed, using his grip to slowly pull Axton off of him and shove him towards the bed. He stumbled, falling over it, landing heavily and getting only half a second to reorient before Rinzler was there on top of him, pinning him in place with knees and hands and an eager mouth.

Axton was moved bit by bit, every shift of a limb accompanied by a grind of hips and a deep kiss. By the time he'd been positioned how Rinzler wanted him - on his stomach, splayed across the bed - his circuits were pulsing with need. Every movement sent a ripple of red-purple light through his system, making him stifle groans in the sheets. Rinzler purred in his ear, unashamedly massaging his backside with a vigor Axton hadn't known existed before now.

"Just relax. I'll be gentle, but... the Programmer most likely won't." Axton nodded, trying to let the tension flow out of his shoulders and thighs, failing miserably as his suit began to derezz and it was suddenly purely circuits to circuits. He cursed and twisted, trying to increase the contact, only dissuaded as it earned him a sharp, stinging slap to the same area. "Stay still." A whine escaped him before he could stop it, face burning as he buried it in the sheets. Rinzler stayed quiet for a moment before being seemingly satisfied and moving forward again, shifting on the bed and--

Axton moaned, surprised, muscles clenching with the effort to stay still as Rinzler licked at his entrance. He felt a smirk find its way across that face before he buried himself further, assaulting him with a barrage of wet pleasure. It was almost enough to get him off but just barely not and he groaned, trying to push back or forward - _anything_ to get that last edge of friction. Rinzler held his hips still with an iron grip, swatting him lightly on the ass again. Apparently that was enough of a cue, however, as he pulled back and _fuck_ Axton could hear the wet smack as he pulled himself off and licked his lips, purr loud and content. His double was sliding back up, his own excitement evident, purring low in his ear and then there were two bare fingers slotting deep and full into him and Axton couldn't see anymore.

Rinzler chuckled, low and rough with desire, spreading him quickly but thoroughly, done with the teasing and almost as eager as Axton himself. There was a brief pause as his fingers withdrew and then they both moaned in unison, voices blending together as their bodies became one. Rinzler pushed until he was fully seated inside him and Axton was reduced to a panting, purple heap of a program, circuits flickering brightly. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only gasp out what he hoped were words while his body pushed back, demanding more. Rinzler obeyed, thrusting sharply, and his world went bright, overload flooding his system with heat and pleasure.

His high faded slowly and Rinzler was still there, still inside him, pulsing and insistent and _hot_ , purring and laying gentle kisses along his shoulder. He shuddered and moaned weakly, knowing they were not done, unable to stop the clench of his body as Rinzler began moving again. His double growled, thrusts shallow and quick, making Axton grit his teeth while he bore the onslaught of pleasure on his too-sensitive circuits. The other moaned deeply, sinking his teeth into Axton's shoulder as his hips stuttered and he was suddenly filled with heat.

They stayed still for a long minute, panting as their circuits cooled. Rinzler rumbled softly, laying light kisses against the wound he'd only half meant to make, hands running soothingly against Axton's sides. It felt all too pleasant and Axton felt as if he were missing something, suddenly, so full of warmth and purpose but still lacking something vital and core. He pulled away, falling forward and shifting onto his back, trying to even out the rhythm of his breath while he watched his double do the same. He was suddenly fascinated - it seemed that Rinzler _did_ have the same circuits he wore proudly hidden beneath his dark suit, the same intricate patterns traced lightly over his skin. A curious hand traced over the squares at his throat, across the lines of his shoulder, and Rinzler smiled down at him. They kissed again, soft and sweet, and Axton pushed whatever it was out of his thoughts. It could be dealt with later, some time when he wasn't too busy enjoying the comfort of another curled up with him.

Rinzler was happy to note that Axton's circuits returned to red, not white, even if the user-program himself did not notice. Their methods were working far better than expected. It was only a matter of time before he was theirs, _completely_.

He resolutely ignored the thrill that thought sent through his circuits.  



	4. the name on his breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Name. Function. What are you?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sequel to [the taste of defeat](http://ekala-sy-eph.livejournal.com/58844.html#cutid1) and [the sound of a name](http://ekala-sy-eph.livejournal.com/59018.html#cutid1) and [the color of his heart](http://ekala-sy-eph.livejournal.com/59536.html#cutid1). dubbed the axton!verse, really, and I'll probably make a master post when I'm not half-asleep.

  
  
He woke slowly, again. It was mildly concerning; he should be able to snap awake, if needed. Perhaps the lack of a need precipitated his slowness. Still, something was... prodding him. There _was_ a need, to _go_ or _obey_ but it was fuzzy, like an image where he could not quite read the words. Rinzler was there, he realized suddenly, as his awareness increased to the entire room. His double lay next to him, also looking very recently awake, eyes shining with intent.

"The programmer calls for us." Ah, that's what it was. The world shifted back into focus and Axton smiled and nodded, rolling out of bed as easily as his partner, helmets sliding to hide identical faces. The lightrope attached to his collar appeared and Rinzler took it, leading him as they had been told. Taught? Axton knew this was the way he was to be presented to the Programmer, in any case. That was what mattered.

They stepped inside, Axton a length behind his partner, both heads bowed submissively though Axton was sure Rinzler was watching their luminary as intently as he was. The master looked impressed, he noted with a smug sense of self-pride. Axton was nothing if not a fast learner. The gold program stepped forward, taking his lead from Rinzler, pulling him closer and derezzing his helmet with a simple touch. He didn't bother to hide his admiration now, feeling a heady rush of energy simply being this close to the master program. Especially when he was... the word escaped him, momentarily, as if it didn't want to be applied. _Smiling,_ he thought.

"He seems particularly well-trained. I trust it's been going well." Rinzler must have answered affirmatively, though Axton did not or could not hear over the thrum of energy in his ears as his master's hand traced his cheekbone and looped around one ear to trail down his jaw. "Good. And you've been training him in... all areas." His hand forced Axton's chin up slightly, voice tinged with amusement, probably at the line of marks from his partner.

"Combat training proceeding faster than anticipated. He will not take nearly as much maintenance as originally predicted." The words filtered through Axton's ears, though he was much more focused on the drag of a single, gold-circuited finger across the tiny delicate fractures along his throat. "...intimate training is complete. Orientation seems to have also completed and his programming set." Clu raised a brow, still stroking Axton's throat gently. He looked contemplative for a moment, the motion ceasing.

"Name." Axton nearly startled. The curt command was addressed to him and he found himself responding before he'd registered the question.

"Axton." His master smiled softly, though his voice was harsh as he spoke again.

"Function." Easy enough.

"To protect and serve my Programmer and Master. You." The smile reached Clu's eyes.

"And what are you?" Now that, _that_ confused him. His logic circuits whirled, the gears whirring in his head. He opened his mouth, almost ready to answer, but then lost the word, unsure. Surely he must be a program, and yet something in his being rejected that, fought it tooth and nail.

The hesitation was enough of an answer.

Clu's face twisted and Axton was suddenly on the floor, cheek stinging from the impact of a fist or a hand or something, grunting as a heavy heel dug itself into his spine. His disc was gone and his vision was blurring, mind barely able to process the audio it was receiving. The muddy gold-red shapes still made it clear that Clu was standing over him, Rinzler close to him.

"You said he was complete! And yet the most _important_ bit is barely reinforced!" His partner whimpered in a way Axton knew meant he would apologize if he could form words, followed by a heavy thud. "How am I supposed to trust you with his training if you cannot even do something so _simple_... You know the programming alone is not enough." Clu's heel dug further into his back and Axton gasped in pain, audio sensors also whiting out.

Within a moment, though, he'd drawn back and Axton's vision and hearing slowly returned to normal. He wearily glanced around to see Clu doing something with his disc - upgrading him, he thought, making him better and faster, certainly. His master would do nothing harmful, even in a rage such as this. Would he? The programmer angrily closed the display and locked the disc back on his dock, Axton grunting as it resynced. Clu stood again, much more gently resting his foot on Axton's lower back - a warning, this time.

"Name." It hurt to talk, hurt to move, but he had to answer.

"Axton," he gasped out, trying not to cough.

"Function." The boot didn't move away but had lightened, fractionally.

"To s-serve the... programmer." He clawed at the floor, suddenly desperate to get up and away. Clu growled and ground his heel back down, keeping him still.

" _What. Are. You._ " If he could just answer this, if his mouth would cooperate--

"A program!"

The pressure disappeared and his world flipped again, suddenly cradled against his master's chest. He curled closer, body shaking, still unsure as to what his fate was to be. Clu was gentle now, though, and it calmed him quickly. He went willingly as Clu carried him across the room, laying him face-down on what had to have been a bed in the corner. It was soft and warm and smelled of the master, he thought, burying his face in the sheets to chase the lingering scent.

Someone - had to be the Programmer, it was too heavy to be Rinzler - settled behind him, straddling his thighs and smoothing large, warm hands over his back. He moaned, muffled by the sheets, body automatically responding to the touch by attempting to arch into it, circuits flickering violet. The Programmer chuckled, laying over him and keeping his own circuits just far enough away to prevent sparking.

"That's much better, program." Clu kissed the back of his neck, his suit falling away quickly to leave only circuits and skin. "You prefer this, don't you, Axton. Pleasure instead of pain." He moaned in response, squirming up against him, managing to get up onto his elbows and push his backside against the now all-too-noticeable bulge in his master's suit. "Shh. I'll give you what you want." Axton was insistent, though, whining and rolling back again. Clu growled and slapped his side, biting his shoulder harshly to still him.

After a long moment of forced silence, his master moved again, pressing suddenly-bare hardness against the cleft of his ass. Axton moaned shamelessly, hands tangling in the sheets, only barely suppressing the urge to move again. Clu chuckled, seemingly pleased, and pressed forward, bare and dry but Axton was relaxed and ready, not wanting to disappoint him any longer. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, gasping suddenly for breath, chest heaving. The programmer was enormous, filling him completely, stretching him past his previous limits and it hurt even as it made him crave more. Axton wanted Clu to rip him to pieces, to absorb him, to make them whole and one and he realized belatedly he was making these deep noises, reverberating out from somewhere inside him.

Even as he sensed it, the programmer's hand clamped over his mouth, that silky-smooth voice growling low in his ears. It washed over him, nearly as pleasurable as the hard thick slide of Clu inside him, adding to the slow-building pressure behind every circuit line. The words had the tone of command in them, though, sharp and hard and cutting through the haze to reach his core systems, clear as crystal.

"From now on, your voice is _mine_. You will talk to no one except myself and Rinzler." Push-pull-slide-heat-pain-pleasure- _please_. "The only commands you will follow are my own, and then only from my mouth and not passed on by some secondary agent. Other programs will lie to you, will hurt you, will _derezz_ you--" He trailed off into angry growls again, words incomprehensible between the in-out friction heat.

The programmer pulsed inside him, pleasure pouring inside him and flowing over his circuits, sparking his systems but not enough, just barely on the edge. Axton whimpered, _sobbed_ , shaking from the strain of holding his processes at such a high level without being able to go into overload. He was sure he was begging behind his programmer's hand, still firmly clasped over his lips, but he still couldn't see or hear much at all.

But then he was sliding out, pulling away completely, leaving Axton a purple, shaking mess on the bed. His vision and hearing cleared slightly, not completely overclocked, even though he still had little to no control of himself. He could still feel the programmer's energy inside him, hot and cool and wet somehow all at once.

"That's no good." Axton definitely was not expecting the smack across his backside, sending another ripple of pleasure through him, gasping and collapsing and relaxing. The hand slid down between his thighs, tracing a line of energy that was now seeping out of him, glowing blue-white. He shuddered, whimpering again, biting his lip in an attempt to keep the noises in.

"Much better. Doesn't he look nice?" Clu couldn't have possibly been talking to him, so... Rinzler. He was still here, somewhere, and he'd been watching the whole thing, and now he was seeing Axton as this complete wreck. For some reason that made him moan again, nearly drowning out the growl from the other side of the room. The programmer pulled away again, his heat dissipating slowly over a long moment of silence.

"Go ahead, Rinzler. He's yours." Axton barely had time to register the words before his double was on him, flipping him over and kissing him breathless, pushing him into the bed and bringing all of their circuits into contact as quickly as possible. He clutched at anything he could reach - hair, skin, sheets - but his double was obviously in control, setting a quick and hard pace. Red and black filled his vision even as their combined circuits ran a spectrum of aroused colors, gold teasing at the edge of his vision telling him that Clu was still there and _close_.

It took barely a nanocycle before Axton's vision went blank and he shorted out, pleasure flooding every circuit, the feel of the programmer still inside him and his partner _everywhere_ and it was all far too much for his newly-adjusted system. As soon as he reached climax he passed out, programming settling in around the edges of his consciousness, locking in.

He woke silently, assessing the situation without opening his eyes, only halfway aware of where he was. There was a gentle hand running through his hair, the soft surface beneath him vibrating softly with the sound humming through the air. He was in Rinzler's lap, it seemed.

"You seem very pleased, Rinzler." Clu was still there as well. The humming increased; an affirmative answer. A deep chuckle from the programmer. "Take him back to your quarters when he wakes. He needs more rest to let the programming fully sink in before we continue training." Rinzler didn't answer but Axton assumed he nodded. More programming... more training. The programmer. Rinzler. Axton settled back into Rinzler's lap, not feeling like moving anywhere quite yet.

Content, he decided. That was what he felt, right now. It was... nice.

He couldn't feel the last bits of his old memories lock themselves away, or the submissive command structure cementing itself, or the bit of simple Grid knowledge worming its way into his head. It didn't matter, anyways. It was already too late.  



	5. the blood on his hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Monster."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 5 of the [axton!verse](http://ekala-sy-eph.livejournal.com/60017.html#cutid1). two hundred cycles is roughly four years in user time. rinzler's headspace is infinitely odd at the moment. this may be completely reworked later. i told you all i wasn't good at anything beyond sex, okay.

  
  
They found him.

But that's not where this began.

Rinzler watches. He acts, when his programmer commands. But he is mostly a shadow enforcer; the knowledge of his very existence, his presence, these stop a large portion of what he would have to deal with otherwise.

It is only with Axton that he is allowed to do as he likes, given that he does not go outside the range of his programmer's orders. It's intoxicating. He still knows, after all. He _watched_ , when Clu tore his code open and fixed it from the inside, bent a _user_ to his will. It was possible, if far more difficult than doing the same with a program. And not just any user but _his_ user, who would now bend to his will, be his slave if he so wished it.

Rinzler wanted no such thing.

He protects Axton. Leads him into the light, the wonder that is loving and serving their programmer. He teaches him how to fight, how to pleasure, how to kill, makes them the same in every way even though he can smell the blood still pulsing in the veins hidden beneath his skin, hidden beneath false circuits and pile of lies.

He takes him for his _own_ , when Clu does not want them. It is much the same feeling as he has for his programmer - protective and possessive, but the need to own him completely is unique to the user. Perhaps simply because he could never own his programmer; his programmer owns him and he will forever be owned by him. Rinzler would die for both, for either, has killed and would kill again. Anything to keep them.

Their life is simple, after Axton has adjusted to his programming. They destroy any resistance to their programmer's plans. They guard him. They pleasure him, when he is not busy. When he is they train, or busy themselves with each other. Rinzler becomes known as the Enforcer, and Axton as the Eliminator. Still, there is one shadow that hangs over them.

They found him.

It was bound to happen. Resistance was few and far between and easily squashed when it did arise. Both he and Axton had had plenty of time to run the process that Clu had derived from a mixture of his own code (a reflection of _his_ ) and Axton's user code, a scanning system that would pinpoint his location. It had taken nearly two hundred cycles but the time had only made them stronger.

Clu only sends the pair of them. He cannot trust any other program around the other user. They are the only two loyal and strong enough to resist any reprogramming he may attempt. Rinzler cannot admit it, but he is glad. Anyone besides Axton would simply get in the way. He wants to personally rip the user apart, for all the trespasses he'd committed against his programmer.

They find an ISO, first. Rinzler can tell the moment he sees her, though Axton seems confused. She seems to intend to fight them and they both drop into a fighting stance just before _he_ appears in the doorway behind her.

"Quorra. Run." She looks enraged, he thinks, as she looks between them and the user. Still, she pushes past him and leaves, and neither of them will follow. She will certainly be a pest but they are not here for her. They have their orders. Neither moves for a long moment, the silence stretching between them.

He moves first, stepping into the room, hands still folded behind his back. Rinzler watches as always, Axton mirroring him. He steps to the right, Axton to the left, both of them circling slowly for a moment until they lunge, Axton sliding across the floor to knock the user off his feet, Rinzler holding a disc out meant to be buried in his throat. They both hit what seems to be an invisible forcefield, stopping Axton but sending Rinzler flying across the room. He hits the wall with a sickening crunch, helmet beginning to crack. Axton growls and rolls backwards, springing up and hitting the field with both discs, attempting to break it. The user sighs and increases the energy, the field expanding and changing until Axton, too, is sent flying across the room.

"I don't want to hurt either of you." Rinzler is behind him now, creeping across the floor, silent as he can be. "Go back to Clu and tell him that he won't be able to find me next time. I'll hide more carefully." The program lunges again, making it through the field as the user hadn't seen him, a disc slicing across the user's arm before a blast of energy sends him flying again. His helmet dissolves this time, in a gentle tinkle of pixels, his side similarly damaged. The user's posture changes, relaxing and tensing all at once, losing the easiness it just had. His face shows his surprise as he steps hesitantly towards him.

"Tron?" The name rips a feral growl from the program's throat. He was not that monster. Not anymore. Clu had fixed him, made him see the error of his ways, shown him the light. He tried to move, to get up, but his legs were not responding to the messages he sent. Instead he simply glared, red eyes hard as steel.

 _He_ seems to suddenly remember something, face draining of color. Rinzler feels _smug_ , almost, as he knows what the user is thinking. Indeed, he turns towards his partner, who has one damaged arm as well a similarly broken helmet. Rinzler _knows_ he can tell that Axton was once the user named Alan_1, regardless of the layers of fakery Clu had pasted on top of that. He was sad, really, that he couldn't see his face. It was probably infinitely amusing. Something he'd have to get from Axton's memory banks later.

"Alan." His voice was quiet, the self-assured tone it had lost completely to astonishment and despair. "Alan, please." A sob. He was _crying_. How quaint. Axton continued advancing, though it was slow, now. He seemed to sense that the user would no long hurt him. "Listen to me. Clu's done something to you. Brainwashed you. This... this isn't you. You wouldn't do..." Another sob. Perhaps he knew of their exploits. The ISO must have been keeping him informed. Rinzler hoped he now remembered every one and suffered for every bit of his so-called friend that they'd taken. "You can't do this. I can still fix the system. I can still do... something. I'll..."

Axton was not listening. Clu had taught him too well. He approaches him, not even bothering to reactivate his disc, punching him once with a solid right. The user skids to the floor, putting up no resistance. His face is stained with tears, now that Rinzler can see it. He looks positively terrified. It's wonderful. Axton kicks him, rolling him over and wrenching the disc off his back, tossing the white circle to Rinzler. He turns it once in his hands. It doesn't look any different than any other disc, but he supposes it wouldn't have. Axton's hadn't.

The user was kicked again, rolling back onto his back, silently crying now. Utterly useless, really. Rinzler was glad they'd gotten the order to execute him, as Clu wished to make an example of him, not bothering to reprogram him. Axton raised his disc, white edge glistening deadly as always.

"Please, Alan, you know me! It's me, Kevin, Flynn, whatever stupid nickname you decided to call me, fuck, please! You are my _friend_ , my confidante, my everything! Don't... please, fight it, something!" Axton pauses and for a long moment Rinzler is afraid that the programming may indeed not hold. His arm lowers slowly, face as impassive as always. Rinzler is about to speak to him but then he opens his own mouth, astonishing them both.

"I do not know you, User." _He_ looks lost. "I serve only our programmer, CLU." He raises his disc again, face turning up in a sneer. "I would never be _friends_ with a _monster_ like you," and he drops to his knees, straddling the prone user, growling in his face, spitting out the words with more hate and malice than Rinzler even believed was possible for one program to have as the user stares, unable to look away. " _User_."

His hand fell, disc slashing the creator's throat.

\---

By the time Rinzler is able to lift himself back up and limp over, pixels still slowly falling off of his side, Axton is covered in slowly-drying blood. He's been staring at his hand for the past few nanocycles, seemingly fascinated. Rinzler's hand on his shoulder makes him jump, looking up at him with his usual face, innocent blue eyes and all. He looks troubled, though, and Rinzler knows exactly why.

"You did very well, Axton." That helps, a bit. "I will not tell our master of your small break in protocol. It was deserved. You crushed him emotionally before you did so physically, and it was beautiful." He leaned, slipping his arms around shoulders still slippery with blood. " _You_ were beautiful." Axton shifts back into the touch, head resting on Rinzler's chest as they both take a moment to gather themselves.

"Rinzler." He hums in acknowledgement. "This... substance. It smells..." Axton paused, bringing his hand back up to his face, sniffing carefully. "It smells like me. It... is the same as what I..." Rinzler squeezes his shoulders gently, burying a smile in his hair, nodding. Axton hums, settling again, the last of the tension flowing out of him.

  
"So this is how I am special."


End file.
